


Wandr

by Losing_Sleep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losing_Sleep/pseuds/Losing_Sleep
Summary: Oliver’s friends want him to find a boyfriend. They steal his phone and download a dating app called Wandr.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood, Terence Higgs/Adrian Pucey (background)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters. Harry Potter belongs to JKR. I just wrote this for fun.
> 
> Note: This story is primarily Oliver centric but shifts around throughout the story. The canon story takes place 20 years later to allow for the technology integration here. This story takes place a year after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Friday August 16th 2019

The two former quidditch rivals nod in polite acknowledgement for each other, meeting up at a muggle coffee shop on a warm August morning.

“Bell.”

“Higgs.”

It was funny how some rivalries could be forgiven after school. Katie doesn’t feel any hostility or resentment towards the other wizard, it probably helps that Katie and Terence Higgs weren’t the captains of their teams.

It had been over five years since Flint and Oliver graduated and left Hogwarts. Katie remembers how the captains shouldered the expectations of not only the team, but the house. The captains are responsible for answering to so many different people when the team loses. Of course, the players felt some of that, but keeping spirits high and motivated throughout the season often fell to the captain.

They stand in line together in silence. Katie ordered her dark roast pour over coffee with a splash of cream. Higgs ordered his earl grey tea with a cube of sugar, muttering something about her travesty of an order but generously paid for both drinks. She brushes the comment off, as their meeting today was not on hot drink preferences. She takes the card for their order number and finds a table for them to sit down, placing their card in the stand for the barista to bring over their drinks when ready.

They sit down and Katie is stalling by looking through her purse. She’s relieved when Higgs breaks the ice by asking, “How is your family?”

She looks up from her bag and hangs it on the back of her seat. Katie doesn’t want to beat around the bush but supposes she should be cordial if she is going to solicit Higgs’ help. The question is expected given how Higgs is titled and a pureblood, he’s probably been groomed from a young age in all of the ways to engage in conversation with someone you don’t know very well.

Katie replies, “They are doing well, thank you. How is your family?”

Higgs grimaces briefly but replies, “Half are rotting in Azkaban and rightfully so.” He brightens again before finishing, “The other half are all right, thank you.”

She is spared from replying as their drinks arrive. Katie appreciates the boost from the caffeine in her sip of coffee. She sees Higgs similarly savoring his cup of tea.

She sets her drink down and steels herself to say, “Look, I don’t pretend there’s a friendship, or even an acquaintance between us beyond quidditch from school, but I’m here to ask about Marcus Flint.” She’s see a spark of interest in Higgs’ face so Katie charges on, “I hope I’m not the only one that sees this, but I think he and Oliver could be good together.” There, she’s laid her cards on the table.

Higgs takes another cursory sip from his drink before setting it down and replying, “I agree.”

Breathing a brief sigh of relief, Katie says, “Right? Okay, glad that’s out of the way.” Her hands shake from the nervous energy, now turned excitement, under the table. She’d go to the ends of the earth for her friend Oliver, even approaching their former rival for help. “Look I honestly don’t know if Oliver even fancies Flint, sorry I mean Marcus,” she self-corrects from the minor huff Higgs lets out when she just says Flint. Some habits are hard to break, but she supposes she should extend the courtesy of being amiable here.

Higgs looks down at his hands, pretending to push back his cuticles on his immaculate fingernails. “I’ll say it once and if this doesn’t work, I’ll deny any involvement here.” He looks up now at Katie, “But Marcus does like Oliver and as his best friend, I’d like to see him happy for once.”

Katie grins, “Fair enough. Look, I have an idea and it’s a long shot but it puts the responsibility on them to bridge any differences on their own. We’re merely being providing the chance for them to find each other.”

The small smile on his face says it all, he’s the same kind of friend for Marcus that she is for Oliver. “Tell me about it and I’ll see if it’s something we can do.” She can see through the schooled demeanor, spotting an undercurrent of eagerness.

Katie wonders if this is similar to how the pureblood families brokered matches between their children. She smiles, of course it was up to these two silly boys to make it work. She had to admit it was fun to orchestrate here with someone just as equally invested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have most of the story written and I would like to publish a new chapter each week. *fingers crossed* It's honestly been so long since I've written something so please be patient but constructive criticism is great too! Rating will go up in later chapters, by the way.


	2. Celebrations Are in Order

Saturday August 24th

Oliver worked hard to move up from the reserves to the starting team. Of course, he stepped in the last half of the season when their last keeper suffered a career ending injury. But it wasn’t official he was part of the starting team until this month.

So it was a weekend night and he was celebrating with available Gryffindor quidditch alumni at his favorite pub. Many of his former teammates went on to other careers outside of quidditch but they all jumped at the opportunity to celebrate and express their admiration for their former captain.

Alicia puts her elbows on the table and asks, “Oliver, not that any of us doubted you, but what was your back up?”

They were on their fourth round and Oliver didn’t usually drink during the training season, so he felt the fuzziness weave into his brain. He’d have to put in a longer run tomorrow to make up for the extra calories…

Learning back in his chair and feigning thoughtfulness, though the question had come up repeatedly in individual conversations with his friends over the years. Many thought he had been mad to keep holding out for a starting Puddlemere position when he had offers from other teams to join their starting lineup. But it had always been his dream to play for Puddlemere so every season he told himself he would give it one more go.

He finally shrugs, “I didn’t have one. I couldn’t afford to think of anything else, otherwise I’d have a safety net.”

There are some quiet responses of “Wow” and “I couldn’t have done it” echoed around the table.

Alicia crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow before replying, “So the rumor of Hooch offering you her job isn’t true at all?”

Alicia was one of the few who kept up quidditch, currently playing for the Harpies. Oliver heard through the grapevine she was interested in Hooch’s position but was never offered the chance. Of course, he never put much weight into idle chatter unless it came directly from the source.

However knowing this line of inquiry would come up eventually, Oliver just grimaced. It was a year ago Hooch sent him an owl, asking him to come back to Hogwarts for a visit. It was the lowest point of his reserves career, not many players on the backup team make it to the starting team if they’ve waited four years so the offer had been very tempting. He felt like he disappointed Hooch, even though she commended his efforts in staying the course to pursue his dreams.

“I don’t know who your sources are on the matter, as I have never told anyone outside of my mum.” He levels a look at everyone in the eye, a few look down, which only serves as confirmation who had been gossiping about the matter. Really now, everyone here should know how Oliver feels about rumors. He sighs before continuing, “But if it’s so important for everyone to know, then yes. I was offered a chance back at Hogwarts as Hooch’s replacement when she steps down.”

Katie breaks the tension by chiming in, “Oliver, you would have been great mentoring the future generations of quidditch. But now you can focus on your next goal, making the national team for the World cup!”

He can’t help but smile in response, “That’s right!”

The table half laughs while the other groans. The table shortly breaks off again into their separate conversations. He does his best to navigate around the table to catch up with everyone before calling it a night. His beer is half full and warm now. Someone offers to buy him a fresh one but Oliver declines, citing the need to keep up his training regiment tomorrow morning.

When he sits next to Alicia, she immediately apologizes. “Oliver, I’m sorry. My sister is still at Hogwarts and she saw you meet with Hooch. I’ve wanted that job since I first flew on a broom.”

Oliver can’t stay mad at his friend, he can see in her eyes she means every word, “Hey, thank you for letting me know and apologizing.” He for one can relate to wanting to pursue your dreams and has felt disappointment more often than success. “Does Hooch know you’re interested in teaching and refereeing?”

She shakes her head. “I just thought she would ask me too. I used to help coach and mentor first years who needed the extra help. I thought maybe she would remember that.”

Oliver brightens and replies, “Just send her an owl, ask to meet up. I know you could ask her. As far I’ve heard, she is still looking for a replacement.”

Alicia wrinkles her nose. “Seriously? An owl, Oliver?”

“Hey, they don’t allow mobiles at Hogwarts!”

He knows that as the older one of the group here, he gets a lot of ribbing for preferring owls and fireplaces to communicate over mobiles. He definitely prefers chatting face to face, but he’ll chat on whatever methods his friends prefer. Lately they’ve all shifted to the mobile. Maybe he’s old because he feels like so much gets lost there, so he definitely cherishes the fewer and rarer chances they all take to meet up like tonight.

Alicia smiles back, “Okay fine, you’re right of course. Thank you. It just feels a bit like owling is only for my mum and grandparents these days. But I’ve converted my dad over to mobiles. He’s nuts over them.”

When he checks in with Katie, she leans in, “Oliver I’m so happy for you! Are other parts of your life having their high points too?” She winks for emphasis so that Oliver cannot feign ignorance.

Sighing because he should not be surprised this did not come up sooner. At least Katie spared him from asking in front of the group, for that he is grateful. She was one of his few confidantes during his low points in his career as she always kept things close to her.

“No, there’s no one right now.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, but she schools expression back to neutral. “Really Oliver?” Her tone is sad and weary. “You deserve to be happy in your life outside of quidditch.” She holds up her hand before Oliver can interject. “Yes, yes, quidditch is your life. I know. What about dating or just—” the way she blushes, he knows what’s coming next, “just hooking up?” She gives him a lazy once over. “You’re still attractive you know?” She’s beaming now at Oliver.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Good to know I’m still shaggable.”

Oliver’s not blind, he knows he is in shape and he keeps to his strict diet two months before training season until the end of the season. Tonight is an exception on the alcohol and he certainly feels it. But he’s had his fair share of witches and wizards hitting on him in public and that’s before they even know who he is, not that he’s anyone particularly famous like the big names in the league.

“Oy, who says otherwise?” Angelina replies before giving him the same appraising look Katie did. “I concur with Katie’s report on your attractiveness.” That grabs the attention of the whole table now.

George says, “Really now, Oliver? You need our help getting you laid? On it!” He grabs Oliver’s mobile and taps away at the screen. “What color would you say his eyes are, Alicia?” The two now are sharing conspiratorial grins.

“I did not ask for anyone’s help!” But it’s no use, he can tell.

Katie is having a hard time not smiling. “Oliver, just give it a chance. You could meet someone who makes you happy.” Her wistful look of hope is too much for him and concedes.

“Oliver, what’s your league number?"

Oliver now has the sinking feeling this was all coordinated. His old team found their own mission to help him even if it’s misguided and unsolicited, he’s touched by their concern. The part of him that he can only acknowledge in the safety of his own company is silently cheering for the opportunity to meet someone, it’s been a long time since he’s had a meaningful connection. He’s not naive that he’ll find someone right away on this dating app, but he tries to be as optimistic as his friends tonight and that’s enough for now.

“Right-o, you’ll need to fill out this part.” George says before tossing his mobile back at him.

Staring at the screen, Oliver turns red before seconds later white as parchment.

“No way, no, no no. People actually fill this out?”

He’s asking no one in particular. He sees a few sheepish looks around the table. Aside from using his mobile to read about quidditch updates or message a few friends, he does not use the thing. It was still bizarre to him how mobiles caught on in the Wizarding world, he supposed people did get sick of cleaning up after owls.

His friends help him finish setting up his profile and walk him through on how to use the app. He’s a bit surprised at how quickly some of the matches come through.

“Come on Oliver, he might un-match himself from you if you don’t message him now! Look at how hot he is!” Alicia was going to lose her mind over some bloke named Thomas less than 3 minutes away.

“Okay but this could be a catfish,” Angelina cautions the group, ever the voice of reason.

George laughs as he replies, “They may say the same about our friend Oliver.”

Oliver rests his head on the table and asks, “I hate to ask, but what’s a ‘catfish’?”

His friends proceed to give him the crash course for online dating. Apparently this app could find him any wizard with his preferences to hook up and potentially date. He reads through the questionnaire and his profile, blushing again. He has to give the app kudos for being thorough.

* * *

After yesterday’s gathering Oliver went home to his flat, despite pleas and cajoling from his friends to message one of the matches. He thought no good could come from messaging someone new after midnight.

He turned off his mobile once home, only turning it on again when he was ready to leave for his morning jog. His heart stops for a moment because he has over 30 messages. Did he really swipe right on all of these wizards? He didn’t have a headache when he woke up but now feels one coming on.

It’s overwhelming to think about that many wizards interested in possibly meeting him. Oliver doesn’t see how he’s so special or deserving of the attention. He doesn’t know if he’ll have the time or energy to read much less respond to all of these matches.

Steeling himself to open the app again, Oliver opens one of the messages. There was an attractive wizard named Dillon who said he was willing to meet Oliver for lunch. There was an image in the message, but it was blurred. The app asked him if he wanted to look at it. There was also a warning in tiny print he missed before he clicked yes.

Oliver immediately throws his mobile down on the table. He slowly picks up his mobile and sees the report or block user button. He chooses block and closes the app. He needs to get his run in to clear his head. He’s always been a firm believer in making decisions after a good workout session.

* * *

Monday August 26th

It’s only been a few days since he downloaded the app and Oliver turns on his mobile again after practice, only to be bombarded by messages from his well-intentioned friends.

Alicia asked, “Soooooo. Have you made any plans to meet with anyone?”

Angelina messaged, “If anyone catfishes you, don’t report them to Wandr. They will report to me.”

George asked, “Can you un-match us? I just wanted to make sure you had at least one match but Katie tells me you’ve already had your inbox blown up, in more than one way.”

He knows word has spread beyond the group of friends from that night when Percy messages him, “Hey Ollie, I hope you find someone that makes you happy.”

He shakes his head as he lies down on his couch. Maybe he should just delete his profile and the app, he can find a boyfriend the old fashioned way. But then he sees his credits in the app and swears. George and Katie must have known he might think to do this, so they paid for some subscription of the app’s premium version. It said non-refundable.

Today’s practice was especially difficult and all he wanted to do was just lay on the couch for the next hour before getting up to prepare dinner and look at some potential formations for his team’s first game of the season in two weeks. So with a heavy sigh, he opens the app again, quickly sifting through the profiles he swiped right in error. He has a gut feeling someone else helped him too, because he struggles to believe he did that when reviewing some of these profiles.

After culling the list of candidates, he figures he kept ten percent of the original messages. Yes even though the app is geared more towards a quick shag, he was pleasantly surprised there are a few human beings that just didn’t look at him like a piece of meat. He doesn’t bother with any matches that just send pictures because he’s seen more than enough nudes.

His mobile dings again from Katie, “Are you filtering to just only quidditch players?”

Oliver still hasn’t replied to any earlier messages but pauses here to ask, “How do I do that?”

He sees the text bubble appear, stop, then come back again. “Really Oliver? Why do you think we asked for your quidditch league number? Wandr can limit matches to your work’s network, in your case, just quidditch players.” She sends a string of emojis that show her frustration with his tech ineptitude, followed by a quick set of instructions on how to activate the filter.

How anyone could text so quickly was beyond Oliver. He sticks to a short message, “Thank you Katie.”

The number of eligible matches in his area dips significantly but Oliver thought that was for the best. He does not like the idea of being stalked or worse, ending up in the tabloids over a quick fling. Him being on the app isn’t any breaking news, as far as the daily rags were concerned he had always been a bachelor. Plus, he’s fairly new to the starting lineup and doesn’t catch many headlines so he’s not worried about that.

He’s spent more time on his mobile than is normal for him, so he puts his mobile down and turns on the wireless to his favorite quidditch station. His stomach growls so he sets about making dinner and forgets about Wandr for the night.


	3. Profile Picture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terence POV - I enjoyed writing this chapter, I'll have to write a story with him afterwards (maybe how he and Adrian got together).

Monday August 26th

Terence checks his mobile quickly as he sees Bell’s name flash on the screen. He is out with friends and does not want Marcus seeing anything just yet. He quickly steps up and away from the table while Adrian arches an eyebrow his way. He waves his hand that he is okay and heads outside.

He pulls up the message and is pleased to see Bell kept it short, in the event it was intercepted. “Proceed ahead.”

He smiles in response, he initially worried Bell would lack tact but perhaps she would have made a decent Slytherin. He sends a thumbs up emoji to her right away.

Adrian and the others knew of the general plan, but left him alone to approach Marcus about joining Wandr. It’s giving him a headache just thinking about it, but he doesn’t need to talk about it tonight thankfully.

Heading back inside Terence takes his seat by Adrian again, the younger man taking his hand and gently squeezing it. Even though they’ve been together for nine months now, the gesture still sets his heart all aflutter. If he could help his best friend find happiness like this, it was worth the extra effort.

* * *

Saturday August 31st

Terence knew they were all set to watch the Wigtown Wanderers season opening match today. They were one of Marcus’s favorite teams as his family had another residence near their stadium. It was one of the few happy memories from Marcus’s childhood, attending the games with his parents.

Today they sometimes all went to a game as Marcus still has season seats, but he said it wasn’t worth the trouble of being recognized and mobbed in public.

So it was with a heavy heart Terence told the separate group text they had without Marcus (for which he still felt bad about even having), to come up with excuses to not show up this evening. They all had enough sense to know why Terence needed them away. Marcus would quickly catch on in a group effort to get him on Wandr.

He apparates to Marcus’s London residence and is promptly greeted by Dotty, “Oh it’s lord Terence Higgs! Welcome, welcome.” The title was one of those things that still made him uneasy because his father is still alive in Azkaban but he knows Dotty meant no ill by it. He nods in greeting to her.

Marcus comes out of his study and greets him with a smile, “Oy, glad you’re still my friend unlike those other wankers.”

Terence tampers down the feelings of guilt because he knows it is said in jest but he still takes responsibility for Marcus’s disappointment. He returns the easy smile back and says, “Hey, things come up. Just gotta roll with it. I’m sure they’ll all make it next time.”

“Surprised Pucey didn’t rope you into his work function this evening.” Marcus quirks an eyebrow, his roundabout way of questioning him about it. “Seems like he’d jump at the chance to trot you out in front of his coworkers at any given chance.”

Terence knows it is an old habit of Marcus’s to switch back to surnames when he is peeved with someone. He tries not to get peeved in return on his boyfriend’s behalf since this was the plan, stick to the plan.

He half shrugs as a way to loosen his shoulders and says, “I told him next time.”

“Right,” Marcus responds, not sounding or looking convinced in the least.

Terence is on high alert now, he hasn’t even had a chance to bring up Wandr and Marcus is already suspicious of him. Marcus had been their captain for a reason, you had to read people pretty quickly and look for any tells. He only hopes he feints quickly enough.

“Let’s watch the game, yeah? We can squawk about that later.” It’s also possible Marcus is trying to see if there’s any trouble between him and Adrian. He’s hopeful that’s where Marcus is leaning towards instead, because it’s much easier to clear the air here.

The game is predictable enough. Wigtown’s Skye Parkin is an ace for the team and at half time Marcus brings up Adrian again. “So what’s really going on with you and Adrian?”

Relieved that Marcus’s sour mood is lifting, Terence replies, “We’re good, couldn’t be happier. I asked him to move in and he said yes,” his chest blooms. “He’s moving in next month after his lease is over.” They only told their parents as they only just decided earlier this week.

Marcus makes a non-committal sound. “See? Told you so. Took you two long enough.”

“Okay, okay. You were right about us, thank you.” The pompous grin Marcus is giving him is driving him nuts. “What else do you need to say?” If it was not for his task tonight, he would roll his eyes but he doesn’t want to annoy Marcus right now.

“So that means I get to give the speech, right?”

“What speech?” And oh, it dawns on him what Marcus means and he blushes. He worries his mouth and says, “Hush now, I don’t wanna jinx anything.”

He can’t say it hasn’t crossed his mind, it’s just that their relationship is Adrian’s first serious adult relationship that’s lasted more than six months and doesn’t want to ask for too much so soon. He knows in his heart Adrian is everything for him, but he just doesn’t know if Adrian thinks he’s the one. He feels like an idiot for wasting a year with Marcus and the subsequent string of wizards he dated, when the right person was so close all along.

It’s as though Marcus senses his thoughts because he offers a small smile and says, “All right, I’ll leave you two alone. Congrats, though.”

“Thanks Marcus.”

The conversation makes Terence miss their individual hangouts. He knows he’s been busy with Adrian and his work on becoming a healer at St. Mungo’s, meanwhile Marcus is busy in general with quidditch. It doesn’t help that Marcus often serves as the invisible glue to their friends despite the varying careers everyone has picked up. So it’s unfair to ask for time alone but all in all, he misses his friend.

Before he can segue to Wandr, half time is over and the second half starts. It’s pretty obvious Wigtown has it in the bag because they have enough points to win even if the Harpies snag the snitch. But he knows better than to chat over the game and leans back into the couch, waiting for the game to wrap up. However he’s thankful for the additional time to strategize.

Sure enough Wigtown wins and Marcus is buoyed up in good spirits. He breaks out his special reserve of fire whisky, it’s his tradition for a Wigtown victory. He pours himself and Terence a glass. This is to be savored and not gulped down like bottom shelf liquor, something that Marcus impressed upon them all early on in this tradition. Even though he feels anxious from Marcus’s shakedown and their upcoming topic of conversation, Terence still appreciates the drink.

Marcus always waits until they interview Skye Parkin about the game before enjoying his own drink. Skye was one of the few quidditch players outside of Slytherin that Marcus openly admired at school. It didn’t hurt that Skye’s dad was also one of Marcus’s idols as a kid, too.

His mobile lights up and he sees a message from Adrian, “Everything going to plan? Wigtown won so that should help.”

Terence smiles and hopes it does but makes a note to chide Adrian later for putting things so plainly. He sometimes thinks Adrian should have been a Hufflepuff and tampers down the laughter that threatens to bubble up. He can’t have that or else Marcus will catch onto him again. However he’s thankful his mobile wasn’t out in the open for Marcus to see the message.

They watch the post game commentary for a bit before shutting off the television and sitting together in peace. Terence braces himself for the next conversation topic, hoping Marcus doesn’t shut him down on it.

“So we chatted about me and Adrian, what about you Marcus?” He’s hopeful the win keeps his spirits high.

Marcus doesn’t meet his eyes and shrugs, “What’s there to say? Same old, same old.”

He knows now Marcus is not going to make this easy. For all of Marcus’s abilities to get people to open up or shake them down for the truth, he sure has a helluva time opening up himself.

“Look I’m not saying you need to settle down with someone—” He’s not able to finish before Marcus cuts him off.

“Isn’t it?” He has a bitter tone in his voice now. “Don’t all settled down people just want to make everyone else settle down too?”

When Marcus rolls his eyes, Terence knows he needs to tread carefully here. He knows they are close to a full on row. The rest of their friends have largely settled down except Marcus and Graham, but no one has really said anything to Marcus on it for this exact reason. However he need only think about his conversation with Katie all those weeks ago, reminding himself of the goal here; he’s hopeful for his friend to find someone, so that’s why he’s here doing his best to navigate a difficult conversation.

“Marcus, that’s not what I’m trying to do here. I just care about you and I want you to be happy.”

“How do you know I’m not happy?” Marcus looks full on petulant and sullen, still not meeting his eyes.

Okay this is not how Terence wanted things to go tonight. He takes a breath to calm himself. “If it’s a question you have to ask, you know the answer, Marcus.”

When Marcus doesn’t say anything, Terrence figures he might as go for the full on row and adds, “You and I both know that shagging fans who only see you as the quidditch star won’t make you happy in the long term.”

Scoffing immediately in response, Marcus rebuts, “So where am I supposed to find someone who looks past all that then?”

Terence couldn’t be happier now for an opening and suppresses the smile threatening to break across his face. If Marcus is open to other ways of meeting people, here’s his chance.

“You could try online dating. Hear me out,” he raises one hand in appeasement and continues, “There are dating apps you could download on your mobile.”

Marcus immediately laughs at this and gives him a look that says he must be mental. They both know how little Marcus uses his mobile because he’s the type of person you’re lucky if he texts you back the next day.

“You’re a diehard quidditch player, there are even some apps that let you only match up with other quidditch players. That’s someone more likely to look past all that.”

Okay, he’s hoping to Merlin that Marcus doesn’t see through that last part. Marcus is sharp and catches onto people’s tells but he’s silent now, sipping on his drink and mulling over Terence’s information. Terence figures they’re at a stalemate so he mirrors Marcus and takes a drink too. He knows he’s skating so close to Katie’s plans now, only for Marcus to unravel it all if pulls at the right string.

Marcus finally breaks the silence and quirks an eyebrow at Terence, “Is this why everyone else was conveniently held up today? So you could tell me about online dating?”

Terence is relieved Marcus hasn’t seen through the entire plan. But he figures he owes Marcus his honesty in part and concedes, “Yes, okay I asked them to cancel so I could bring it up.” He expects Marcus’s ire now and even braces for it.

Instead Marcus just grunts noncommittally and says, “Okay, fine. Help me set it up,” and slides his mobile over the couch to Terence. “You went through a lot of effort to pitch this.”

Terence feels like he caught the snitch right now and smiles openly. He follows all of the instructions that Katie gave to him for setting up a Wandr profile and activates the quidditch player filter. He sends over a couple photos from his own mobile to Marcus’s because his friend doesn’t have any saved on his own mobile.

“Smile, Marcus!”

Terence takes a picture of his friend who honestly half grimaces and puts that as one of Marcus’s profile pictures in the app. Terence returns the mobile to Marcus and hopes that even if Oliver doesn’t match with his friend, that Marcus can find someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skye Parkin is a character from HPHM, I don't own her character either. If you've played, cool! If not, she's in your character's house and MC is in Ravenclaw. She would have been a good Slytherin though.


	4. How Fascinating!

Monday September 2nd

Oliver is running late. His captain kept him behind an extra hour as they strategize on their next game. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, he lives and breathes for this type of thing. However he finally has to step away and tell his captain he has plans tonight. He apologizes and promises he has time tomorrow to strategize more. His captain laughs and says no need to apologize for having a bit of a life.

So when he gets back to his flat, he wolfs down some leftovers before jumping in the shower. He has to be ready to leave in 15 minutes to meet a couple of his friends who insisted on being there for his first Wandr date. The support was nice, but it is certainly adding to his stress and panic to get dressed in time. He quickly brushes his teeth for good measure as well.

He makes it though with a minute to spare. He apparates to the bar’s designated apparition point and sees his friends standing nearby, who walk over to him with big smiles on their faces. His stomach feels like it’s in knots and he blames the apparating, he would have much preferred to commute here the regular way.

Even the Wizarding community saw the practicality of doing some things without magic. After all they traveled to and from Hogwarts by train. He has many fond memories of time spent with friends on that train, anything from playing exploding snap to debating quidditch, they always found something fun to do and more often than not they were sad to part ways at the station.

Katie offers some quick assurances for Oliver as they step away from the apparition point, “Really, it happens to everyone on these apps, getting ghosted. You can report their profile and they get suspended for a month if they have two strikes in a month period.”

“Look a little lively, Oliver!” George nudges him.

He really is new to all of this online dating lingo but can easily surmise what ‘ghosting’ entails. Had he more time he would like to know when it was that the Wizarding community picked up these habits from muggles. Everyone he knows under 20 has a phone, even those going to Hogwarts, though they are banned.

She straightens his collar before departing to where George and Alicia have taken a seat. Oliver moves over to the counter and perches on a bar stool.

The back of Oliver’s neck is sweating, he sips his ginger beer while he waits for his match to show up. He chalks up half his nerves to his friends sitting in the back corner, offering their support and to make sure to help him if things go south or if his date didn’t show up.

His mobile buzzes that his date arrived and checked in on Wandr as here. He looks at the entrance and sees a wizard whose just arrived put away his mobile, catching Oliver’s eye and nodding while walking over. The wizard is just as handsome in person as he is on the app. So that’s a relief, Katie and George won’t involve Angelina.

He stands up, offering an easy smile, and greets his date. “Hello Brendon.”

The striking wizard has thick black hair and gray eyes, smiling back at Oliver. “It’s nice to meet you, Oliver.”

They sit down at the table and the server comes by, asking for Brendon’s order, who turns to Oliver. “What are you drinking tonight?”

“Ginger beer.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Brendon turns back to the server. “I will have a glass of Pinot Grigio, thank you.”

Oliver knows his drink is an odd choice but the season is official and he does his best to limit his alcohol intake. With this being his first starting season, he’s determined more than ever to prove to management they made the right call pulling him up the ranks. He’s always pushed himself hard and this is not the time to rest on his laurels.

The server leaves and Oliver asks, “How was your day?” He is trying not to think about his friends a couple tables away, likely just staring at them. He imagines George is offering his own commentary on what they could be saying and stops a snort that almost comes out.

“Oh it was fine. It was a busy day at Gringotts, but when is it not?”

Oliver feels like people who name drop their place of work just to show they work at a prestigious place, are typically not worth knowing. Of course, he wouldn’t limit it to just name dropping their work, but really anything people value as a status symbol. Hadn’t they fought a war on such things? He already knows in his gut this isn’t going to work out.

“I’ll take your word for it. What is your role there?”

“My team monitors muggle markets and researches what to invest in, should Gringotts divest any stock et cetera.”

Oliver can’t say he’s ever thought of the way wizard and muggle finances overlap, but supposes it’s one of those things that someone has to do and he’s glad it’s not him. He wonders what other ways are wizards and witches benefiting from muggles? But he gets the feeling this is going to be a one-sided conversation and wants to leave, but his gut feeling needn’t be a self-fulfilling prophecy already. His mum always taught him to be polite and engaged.

“How fascinating!”

“Very! It’s my dream job for sure. I’m working towards a designation that will help me in my career—I have an exam next month. I shouldn’t even be here, but should be studying.” Brendon gives him a playful wink and briefly touches Oliver’s hand.

He is having a hard time not pulling away immediately, as that would be rude. “Count my lucky stars!”

Oliver hides a smile behind a small sip of his drink. He sees the server coming back again with Brendon’s drink. Maybe he can find a way to leave after one drink. He should have asked his friends about how to escape a bad online date but figures it’s not much different than exiting a regular date.

The rest of their conversation continues the same way. Brendon doesn’t need much to keep himself from talking about himself, never asking Oliver about himself until this. “So you’re a quidditch player, how many games have you played in?”

Knowing now he’s being sized up for whether or not he’s worthy of Brendon’s continued interest, Oliver shrugs before replying, “Only 10 games.”

He sees Brendon running a mental calculation and must pass, because his hand reaches out again. “How fascinating.” Brendon is looking him up and down again, then continues, “Say, do you want to come home with me?”

Oliver is having a hard time not bristling at the open proposition. He takes out more than enough money to cover drinks, pulling his other hand away and says, “Like you mentioned earlier, you should be studying. So best hop to it.”

He stands up and takes a step back from Brendon.

“I’m sorry, what?” To say Brendon looks shocked is an understatement here. Oliver would wager he’s not used to being turned down and likely does very well on Wandr. If Oliver didn’t spend the last 30 minutes seeing what a self-absorbed person he was, his confused pout would be cute.

Oliver breaks it down as simply as he can. “Good night and good luck on your exam next month.”

He sees that Brendon finally gets it now, as Brendon says, “Right, thank you. Good night Oliver.”

Laughing to himself on the absurdity of it all, Oliver turns around to join his friends for a bit before calling it a night.

* * *

Thursday September 12th

Oliver feels like the remaining non-Quidditch matches are not cutting it. After Brendon, he had a couple other dates with his Wandr matches. He met up with someone else last night who was nice enough, but a bit too bland. When the wizard leaned in to kiss him good night, Oliver didn’t feel anything. He guiltily removes these individuals from his messages, fully realizing he is ghosting these wizards. He finally leaves the filter on Katie told him to use for quidditch players, as he had been switching it on and off the last few days.

His heart quickens as the app refreshes and pulls up a wizard from last week’s match. He winces as recalls some of the things he overheard the wizard say to another teammate when he didn’t know others could hear him. Before swiping away the potential match, he reads through the profile and just grimaces when the profile lists gobstones as a hobby. Gobstones has never struck him as a game of ability, just whether you can distract your opponent into losing. Yeah, hard pass as Oliver swipes away.

After 20 minutes, he swipes right on a couple players before seeing a profile for someone he never thought he would see on Wandr for a wizard x wizard relationship. He knocks over his drink and curses, then mutters a cleaning spell, when he reads the name again to be sure. However, there is no mistaking Marcus Flint for another player.

He has not kept up with Flint after Hogwarts, despite their career path. Beyond his team playing a match against the Magpies when he was a reserve, the most he heard about Flint was in the news or gossip rags. The latter always made it seem like he had a string of heart broken lovers who want another chance.

He has to admit that Flint is someone who blossomed after school versus peaking then. Flint’s frame filled out and he grew into his crooked nose that’s been broken beyond count. He notices that most of Flint’s teeth have been straightened from what he can see in Flint’s half grimace, half smirk. Most people in the app put their best foot forward to pretend they are happy and give a toothy smile. He can’t say he’s surprised Flint can’t be bothered but Oliver scrolls down to read what Flint put in his profile.

Favorite team: Wigtown Wanderers

Hobbies: Does training count? Don’t have time for those, maybe when I retire

Book: Quidditch Through the Ages

Oliver cannot decipher if Flint is being genuine or pulling one over on people here. He finds the team choice interesting, though.

Just to give it some more thought, he swipes through the rest of the photos in Flint’s profile. The photos are with his friends and Flint looks surprisingly normal. They look like they’re all having fun in a pub in one photo and in another they appear to be spectators at a quidditch match, all wearing Wigtown’s colors. Huh. So that tidbit must be true then. He swipes to the last photo where someone must have told a joke because Flint has a big grin.

Something is pulling him to swipe right here. He figures there is no way Flint would match up with him, so what’s the harm?

There’s still a part of him that hesitates, though. He cringes when he thinks back to the last time he saw Flint at the league’s awards night. He can’t say he recalls their whole exchange because he was quite sloshed after winning his team’s MVP award. Each team nominated their own player and submitted it to the league for recognition that night.

He was quite happy with the recognition and drank more than he intended. But it’s always sat uneasy with him, not being able to remember his conversation with Flint when they ran into each other in the bathroom. He thinks he may have hugged the man, he’s happy and congenial to everyone when’s had a few. But he doesn’t think that happened, it must have been someone else he hugged because he didn’t wake up with a black eye the next day. He and Flint had come to fisticuffs plenty during their time at school.

But that other part of his brain reasons while they may not have gotten along at school, there is no denying the respect Flint has for the game. Oliver sees far too many players casual and cavalier in their attitude to quidditch, seeing it as a quick way to get rich or achieve fame. He knows that is not the case for Flint, though he’s achieved both.

At the end of the day, Oliver would like a partner that has as much admiration and devotion for quidditch as he does, so he swipes right.

Before he can feel silly about it and think on it too long, the app announces they are a match. Oliver knocks over his drink again and the glass breaks this time as it rolls off the coffee table. But he can’t be bothered to cast the spell to fix it. So maybe he hadn’t been a complete fool at the awards night earlier this year if Flint swiped right on him. While he’s half-tempted to remove the match, Oliver wills himself not to do that here. He knew this was a possibility and should give it a shot.

After all, he’s been on a couple lousy dates so far with complete strangers. Surely a date with someone he knew couldn’t be worse, right?

Oliver drafts a quick greeting, “Hello Marcus” and hits send.

He tries not to think about Wandr or Flint as he heads out to meet one of his teammates for dinner, but can’t quite squash the buzz of excitement he feels right now.

* * *

Marcus is out with friends and sees his mobile buzz with a Wandr notification for a new match before buzzing again with a new message. He blushes as he reaches for the mobile on the table so no one can read it, he still hasn’t figured out how to limit or mute the notifications but is too embarrassed to ask anyone here because they would only tease him about online dating. Thankfully everyone is too preoccupied with Adrian’s gossip from work to even notice.

With Terence’s help, he set up a Wandr account two weeks ago and started reviewing wizards in his area. It’s more work to read through a profile, swipe through photos, before he decides to swipe right or left, than it is to pick someone up in a bar. He’s honestly a bit sick of it, but promised Terence he would give it a month. Someone should have told him that online dating is akin burpees, just shitty overall and no one likes it but then he wouldn’t have agreed to give it a go.

That’s not even including messaging people. Half of the messages in his inbox start with, “Are you REALLY Marcus Flint?” He always removes and blocks those matches because those are the type of people who will screenshot your conversation and sell your messages to the gossip rags for a quick galleon. He might be slow on the uptake when it comes to muggle technology in his group of friends, but he knows at least that much to suss out quickly if someone is genuine or not.

Of course just as he’s losing hope on the whole venture, he sees Oliver Wood on there.

He remembers shaking with disbelief when he saw Oliver’s profile yesterday. He was so worried he would accidentally swipe left, though Terence said there was some way to retrieve the match if you did that. However Marcus wasn’t confident he would remember what he was supposed to do if it happened, so he quickly swiped right before he could mess things up.

It wasn’t until after Hogwarts that Marcus came to terms with his crush on Oliver. Hell, it wasn’t something he had ever admitted to someone until a few years ago when Terence pressed the truth out of him once after they had shagged. Terence of course pushed him to reconnect with Oliver for a year after that, but stopped when Marcus didn’t pursue it. He simply could not believe someone like Oliver would ever see him as more than what we has in school.

He knows the reputation wasn’t ill-gotten either. Things were especially rough for him after his mum passed away during his first seventh year but he knows that shouldn’t be an excuse. Plenty of classmates had a parent or both parents deceased and managed to not be an arsehole at school. But he’s proud to say he’s worked hard to make amends with former classmates and peers he’s crossed paths with since school. It’s one of those things he knows will be a lifetime commitment but he’ll do it.

So something in his gut tells him he needs to check this notification. More than likely it’s not anyone special but the fact that it could be Oliver is compelling enough. He makes a quick excuse and steps away from the table and heads out to the bar’s patio area. It’s pretty desolate so he takes a seat at an empty table and is relieved when no one approaches him for a photo or autograph. They always go to a muggle bar, but he’s been sighted at those too.

Fame is one of those things that changes over time. At first you feel blessed and overwhelmed, but that feeling changes so quickly because soon everyone feels entitled to know your business. He’s had to endure the extra scrutiny of his father’s trial and sentencing to Azkaban. Marcus had been investigated as well, but thankfully he’s since been cleared and vindicated. It wasn’t an easy process and he shakes his head to stop thinking of the past right now.

He tells himself to focus on anything else before he spirals, so he opens his mobile and the app, clicking on his matches and messages. His chest is bursting because he sees that it is indeed Oliver who matched with him and who has already messaged him.

Biting at his lip, he no longer cares about those other unread messages in his inbox and makes a mental note to delete them later tonight, he opens Oliver’s message. He smiles at the simplicity and use of his given name; he’s not sure if Oliver ever used it in their whole time at school. So Marcus isn’t sure what to message back with but isn’t left alone long to wonder before someone sits across from him. He looks up to see Terence.

“Hey, everything okay over here?”

Unsure how much Terence saw him mooning over Oliver, Marcus just gives a half-shrug. He doesn’t trust himself to speak about Oliver just yet. After all Oliver could just as easily unmatch himself right now.

“Yeah I just forgot I had to message my agent back on a couple things, needed some fresh air to think before replying back.”

Judging from the amused look Terence gives him, Marcus knows Terence doesn’t believe him but isn’t pushing for the truth just yet. “Oh yeah? Is she still pushing you to be Mr. July or whatever, again?”

Marcus groans in response. He participated in this year’s Witch Weekly’s Quidditch calendar and he was the candidate for July. He’s not embarrassed by the photo, it’s not raunchy or crude like some of the other photos in the calendar. But he’s certainly received his share of teasing from his friends. They all purchased multiple copies of the damned thing. He occasionally gets asked by fans to sign their calendar every now and again. He’s not sure what kind of person just carries that kind of thing around with them, hoping they bump into one of the featured wizards.

Terence just laughs and continues, “Yeah Adrian made me take my copy down, he thought I was holding a torch for you or something.”

“Please tell me he wasn’t serious. Also how many times do I have to say it was a bad idea?”

Terence laughs again, “You know I’m completely joking with you, right? I’ll stop—for now.”

Being friends with benefits was one of the worst things Marcus and Terence ever did. The sex itself had been fine, but ultimately they weren’t meant to be together. He is thankful they were able to resume their friendship without issue but now Terence likes to tease him about it any given chance when it’s just the two of them. He’s glad Terence has enough sense to not pull that shit in front of their friends.

“Please do.” Marcus covers his face with his hands to roll his eyes, it would give Terence too much satisfaction to see him so irritated.

“Well, if you’re done with work let’s head back inside so you don’t give Adrian any other ideas.”

“I mean it, Terence.” He openly rolls his eyes now, sometimes his friend doesn’t know when to stop joking around. Marcus no longer wonders why he punched his friends at school and wishes he could do it at times like this but he always has to wonder about the paparazzi. They could just be lurking nearby for some type of outburst to print out of context. He’s sadly known that to happen to couple of teammates, rather ex-teammates because they were sacked.

“Okay, chill. He doesn’t care. Your month is still hanging up on our fridge.”

Terence can be a real bugger, sometimes. But instead of focusing on that, Marcus picks up on that last part and waggles his brows, “Even though it’s now September, huh? But _our_ fridge, you say? Since when do you two own things together?”

“Ugh. Now it’s my turn to tell you to stop it.”

Marcus stands up, pocketing his mobile where it will stay for the remainder of his night out until he’s home. He doesn’t need Terence poking around at what he’s doing though he knows full well all of their friends know he’s on Wandr. He knows that unless he tells Terence to keep something to himself, he’ll tell everyone. For most of their friendship it’s never been an issue because he’s known when to keep something to himself or not—this is definitely the former.

He makes his way back inside the bar and says, “I can’t believe someone as patient and classy as Adrian is going out with you.”

As his friend follows him back inside, Terence squawks, “Hey!”

Joining his friends at their table inside who largely haven’t noticed their absence, Marcus mentally winces because he wishes he could have messaged Oliver. But he’ll have to respond later tonight and hopes that Oliver doesn’t unmatch them before he has a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory bad date chapter--so that means things can only get better from here, right? 
> 
> Also thank you to @your_token_trophy_wife for the comments <3


	5. Too Many Emojis

Thursday September 12th

While getting ready for bed, Oliver hears his mobile buzzing that he has a new message on Wandr. He’s brushing his teeth and walks over to his bed, looking for his mobile.

He opens Wandr and sees that Flint has replied. Before he can read the message and reply, he realizes he is now drooling toothpaste down his chin and runs over to the sink to spit and rinse. He was feeling tired, but the excitement coursing through him right now is like drinking three cups of coffee.

Oliver pads back to his mobile and bed, finally opening the message once he’s settled in under the covers. The message reads, “Hey Oliver, how was your day?”

He can’t help the smile on his face. The message is so ordinary and all in all a normal message. But in his short time on the app, he has not received any kind of message that felt like real life. The messages he received here vary from aloof to being explicit and over the top. He’s also happy that Flint has addressed him by his own given name too.

Biting his bottom lip, he types the following message, “It was good. Just had practice and dinner with a friend at a new restaurant. What about you?” Oliver doesn’t expect a response any time soon, so he turns off the lamp on the bedside table but feels his mobile buzz again.

He pulls up the conversation again and Flint has replied. “Same on practice, went out with friends tonight to our usual. Where did you eat?”

“My friend’s uncle opened a new restaurant a couple blocks from Diagon Alley, it’s called The Vine. The food was good!” Oliver sends over a picture of his food, but immediately regrets it. Was it weird to send a picture of your dinner to someone? He groans as he realizes in the photo you can see his friend, his quidditch teammate Sam, partially in the shot too. He hopes Flint doesn’t think his friend was a date.

Flint sends over the hungry looking emoji with the tongue sticking out, then messages, “Looks very good! I’ll have to try it soon. I didn’t peg you for a foodie.”

Oliver blushes, he’s surprised that Flint has already replied back to him. But now he’s not sure if Flint is asking him in a roundabout way if he’d like to go back to the restaurant. He sends the following back, “I enjoy a good meal as much as the next person, so if that’s your definition of a foodie, so be it. Did you not leave school with a broader appreciation of cooking once you had to do it for yourself?”

Oliver has burned his share of meals cooking for himself, so anytime a friend asks him to dinner he jumps at the chance. Sam was in the same boat, so the two often caught a quick bite together.

“Fair enough. I’m still a novice when it comes to cooking, too.”

“Was it really so obvious I can’t cook?”

Flint responds with a laughing while crying emoji and, “Yes.” Then Marcus sends him another message, “Tell me about your interest in muggle movies. Do you have a favorite kind?”

Oliver laughs out loud. He forgot that his friends helped write his Wandr bio because no one on Wandr has commented on this hobby before. He does enjoy some muggle movies, his mum’s sister married a muggle so he remembers going to the movie theater for his cousins’ birthdays over the years. He especially enjoyed the superhero movies and during the off season even enjoys watching a couple muggle shows on Netflix.

He replies, “You haven’t been to a movie theater? You’re missing out! I like all sorts of movies, but enjoy the superheroes kind.”

Yawning as he waits for a reply, Oliver feels his eyelids getting heavy. Then all of a sudden their conversation is flooded with all sorts of images from Flint and he laughs again. Flint must have been looking up superhero movies. Following the images, Flint writes, “Like these? There are so many!”

Some of the images look like fan art, really good fan art, so he sees how Flint could get confused. He writes back, “Yeah like those. Muggles have all sorts of companies that work on these, so they can make a lot of them.”

Flint sends a smile emoji then, “Cool. You’ll have to tell me where to start. I’d like to watch some.”

Oliver feels his heart warm, he knows it is a peculiar hobby for a wizard and he’s a bit surprised that Flint is even showing a remote interest in watching some of those movies. However he looks at the time and is surprised it’s after eleven and yawns again. He hung out later than usual with Sam, so as much as Oliver would like to keep messaging Flint, he really should call it a night.

He bites on his lower lip as he types and sends the following message to Flint, “Of course!! Well, it’s getting late, so I should probably go to bed but I’ll remember to send you a list tomorrow. Good night Marcus.”

He receives a quick message back with the moon emoji, “Good night Oliver.”

* * *

Friday September 13th

Marcus found it hard to sleep, but in the end he managed to get some sleep but not before he ordered some of those muggle movies. He wasn’t so out of touch or elitist to not own a DVD player.

He was surprised that Oliver messaged him back right away as he had been worried that Oliver might not have responded for awhile, given the length of time Marcus had taken to message him back after his first message. He’s already seen on the app how some wizards played games when it came to replying back and hoped Oliver didn’t think he was doing the same. But their conversation felt natural and it was nice to learn something unexpected about Oliver too.

Now he feels a bit bad for being obtuse in his own profile, it’s a wonder that Oliver swiped right for him at all.

So it was a pleasant surprise Marcus saw a message on his mobile again from Oliver. It was simple but made him happier than he usually felt at this time of day. He sits up in bed before reading the message.

“Hey Marcus. Here’s that list you asked about last night.” There’s a link with all of the movie titles. Marcus will need to cross-reference it from his order, but that can wait.

He messages Oliver back, “Thanks Oliver. Is it okay if you text me? Here’s my number.”

Marcus would much rather get a text message than keep using Wandr. He already unmatched himself from the other matches he had previously and Oliver is the only person he is messaging right now. He already knows if he receives anymore matches, he’ll delete those too. He makes a note to figure out if there’s a way to take your profile offline. After the commitment he made to Terence on Wandr, he’s really looking forward to deleting his profile and the app. But maybe Oliver doesn’t see him as more than a Wandr match and regular texting is too personal. His thoughts darken and his bright mood is waning already.

Before doubt can seep in further, he sees a text message from a new number. “Hey Marcus, Oliver here.”

Marcus bites down on the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling too much, but doesn’t bother tampering down the warm feeling blooming in his chest.

He realizes he’s getting ahead of himself, though. He’s barely even seen Oliver in the last five years outside of a quidditch match and thinks back to seeing Oliver briefly at last season’s awards night. Oliver had been recognized for his efforts in salvaging their season when he stepped in for his team’s starting keeper, when the latter had been injured.

When he ran into Oliver in the bathroom that night, Oliver had been cordial yet drunk and greeted him as though they were long-lost friends, even going so far to hug him. Marcus had been stunned beyond belief and barely said a word, likely coming off as stuck-up and taciturn. But just as quickly as Oliver waltzed in, he left the bathroom moments later. Marcus mentally kicked himself over his reaction for at least a week, wishing for any chance to run into the other wizard again. So Marcus is determined to make the most of this opportunity and won’t let it slip through his fingers, he knows that much for sure.

He replies back with a golden snitch emoji and an “Awesome!”

Okay, maybe he needs to cool it a bit with the emojis because Terence has remarked more than once he should limit those in conversations. He emphasized that you do not need to use them in every message. Whatever.

Most teams during the season practice five days a week. Games occur anywhere from Thursday to Saturday twice a month, so most teams practice those days regardless to keep players in shape. The league gives them Sunday off across the board. But most team managers recognize the value in giving players another day off, hence the usual five day training schedule. Of course most players will still work out and practice six to seven days a week, but at least it’s their choice to do so.

Marcus is in that camp, it’s what keeps himself fit and has helped him stay on the starting team the last few years and he intends to stay put for at least another five years. Most players can play until they’re 30 without too many problems but there have been players that stay even longer. He’s not sure he wants to wreck his body that much though. Then again he’s not sure what kind of work he’s suited for after he’s done with professional quidditch. His agent Luce keeps pushing the idea of him becoming a coach or team manager. Both occupations require more skills than his current role as captain mandates.

If he had focused more in school, he admits that being a sports medi-wizard sounds interesting too. He’s always been impressed with how quickly some players return to the game after an injury. Yes magic helps, but those medi-wizards deserve a lot of credit for their research and services. Terence is always going off about them, as the coursework overlaps with healers. Sometimes you learn about jobs too late, not that he would have given up quidditch so easily, but maybe he would have been a better student.

Marcus doesn’t want to have to think about that just yet so he finds himself wondering when Oliver’s team has a day off. What are the odds they both have the same day off outside of Sunday? His team has Wednesday off and wishes it was Monday so he could have some semblance of a weekend. He hasn’t even gone out with the wizard and he’s already thinking about how their schedules could overlap. Then he reminds himself for the second time this morning to not get too bogged down in hypotheticals but that’s just how his brain is wired.

He’s awake now, so might as well get up and ready for the day.

* * *

Tuesday September 17th

Oliver’s been thinking about this all day. He’s had a surprisingly good time texting with Flint the past few days and thinks they should take the next step. He hasn’t heard from Flint on meeting up, so he thinks about the best way to propose it without coming off as too eager.

He’s finished showering from his cycling workout and finally has a message planned, so he sits down on the couch and pulls up his conversation with Flint. He sends the following, “Hey, should we meet up?”

Oliver already knows his answer is yes to that question because he’s not looking for a pen pal. He feels like Flint’s response is a good indicator of his interest in him.

He sees the text bubble appear on Flint’s end. It’s not often Oliver has his phone on him when he sees Flint typing out a response. The bubble briefly goes away before starting up again, then disappearing once more. Oliver waits a minute for it to pop back up but feels his stomach drop for even hoping. Right, maybe he’s misread some things and takes a moment to get a drink of water instead of agonizing over this right now. He could turn off his phone and go for another run but remembers he has a date in a bit and needs to leave soon anyway.

He’s barely taken a drink when his phone chimes and he’s not proud of how quickly he rushes back to the couch to see it.

“We should. What evening works best for you?”

Okay he feels a bit silly for the big grin on his face, but he’s happy for the response. He doesn’t start typing until he’s sure of his response because that’s just cruel to put Flint through the paces too.

“Thursday or Friday works for me.”

Flint doesn’t make him wait this time, he replies immediately, “Thursday works for me too. Let me know where and what time you would like to meet up.”

Ugh, Oliver hates thinking of places. He should have put the responsibility of choosing on Flint when he offered which days worked for him. Fine. He sends back the name of a bar that’s ten minutes away from his flat. But decides it is nice that he’s free to choose the place so he knows exactly how long it will take to commute over.

“Four Pitches. 8pm.”

“Great, see you then.”

Is it sad that he’s not excited at all for his date in thirty minutes? It’s with one of Wigtown’s beaters and he tries not to think about how he has a match against the team later this week. He sighs as he knows he should still go. Maybe he’ll get lucky and his date won’t show up. The wizard seemed nice enough from their messages, so he doubts he’ll be that lucky.

As he leaves his flat, Oliver thinks he shouldn’t put all of his hope on Flint being different than he was in school and should give his date tonight a chance. Because if it doesn’t work out with Flint on Thursday he’s back to square one on Wandr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK. We're getting there! I know this one is shorter, but the next chapter will be longer.


	6. No Dressers Were Harmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *coughs* The rating officially changes...

Thursday September 19th

Oliver enjoyed texting Flint because he never realized how funny the other wizard could be. He found himself wondering if Flint was just as charming in real life or if it was easier to be charming when you have time to draft a response. He even finds his overuse of emojis endearing, though a bit surprising.

So after almost of week of texting each other, Oliver’s glad he finally suggested they meet up.

But he feels a bit weird about tonight. His date on Tuesday wasn’t a total loss and he actually found himself enjoying the evening. So much so that when Chet kissed him, Oliver kissed him back. He hasn’t heard from Chet, nor has he messaged him so it must not mean anything. Sometimes that’s just how these things go so he shouldn’t let that bring him down right now.

It’s been a chilly day but Oliver is oddly calm when he arrives at the pub he is meeting Flint. Maybe it’s because he didn’t feel rushed and could commute here the non-magical way or it could be that he already knows his date a bit more than the strangers he met before. He winces briefly, he’ll have to remember to call him Marcus as he did in the app and in their text messages. But Oliver supposes he could be forgiven for a slip-up when he only ever referred to the other wizard by his surname for the majority of their school years.

Pulling up the app to mark himself as present, Oliver waits in a booth. He’s not even sure why he did that because he and Flint quickly moved their conversations from Wandr to regular texting, but he supposes it is habit by now. He orders a drink and reads the Daily Prophet’s Quidditch section on his mobile but not for long when someone comes up to him.

It’s a handsome blond wizard a bit younger than himself. The man asks, “Are you Oliver Wood?”

The man appears to be on his way out, his friends just walking past Oliver’s booth. He looks a bit familiar to Oliver though, maybe he was a younger student than Oliver from Hogwarts? Oliver is terrible at that sort of thing, unless they were in his year or played quidditch, he has a hard time remembering names and faces.

Failing to notice his mobile buzzing with a notification, Oliver nods congenially and replies, “Hello, yes I’m Oliver Wood.”

Oliver knows that compared to other players he hasn’t been famous for long, but he’s always struck with trepidation when it comes to answering that question. He has half a mind to decline next time to see if it will work but if his gut is right, it wouldn’t have worked here anyway.

The wizard looks starstruck, “I thought so! I’m happy for your move up the ranks this season. The way you filled in on last year’s match against the Cannons was amazing.”

Oliver has had this happen a couple times on his Wandr dates and is appreciative people notice his hard work and efforts. Of course it is at this moment that Flint sidles up with a self-assured smile for Oliver. If the wizard was struck by Oliver, he’s going to lose it when he realizes who else is joining their conversation.

”Who’s amazing?”

“Oliver Wood, of course.”

The wizard looks over at Flint and sure he enough, he blanches as realization hits as to who he is being mouthy. Just one of the top ranked chasers in the league…

Oliver has the feeling Flint heard the whole conversation from the way his eyes crinkle from his smile. He’s not sure if he’s ever seen a genuine smile from Flint but he’s charmed to see it all the same. He’s reminded of the last photo’s smile he saw from Flint’s Wandr profile. He wonders what it was that Flint was laughing about and who captured the candid photo.

As nice as that smile is, Oliver is also mildly distracted from how good the other wizard looks tonight. The tight jade button-up shirt complement his green eyes and the way his sleeves are partially rolled up his forearms isn’t hurting him either, so Oliver is hard pressed to look away. And if the smirk that Flint is sending him is any indication he’s been caught, Oliver would hazard a guess that Flint knows how much he was admiring Flint’s physique too.

While Flint is dressed befitting his status in the league, Oliver feels completely underdressed by comparison likely befitting his own status, he thinks with a wry smile. He’s wearing a jumper and he’s due for a trim soon, his hair is a bit longer than he’d like but the truth is his hair just grows too fast. He wishes he could pull off the styled mid fade Marcus favors.

Sure enough Flint confirms he was listening with his quick remark, “Oliver Wood, you saved all attempted scores in that game if I recall correctly.” The lazy smile he sends Oliver is almost too much and he feels himself flush at the compliment. Flint sets down his jacket in the spot across from Oliver.

The wizard reddens as he picks up on Flint’s teasing and just waves goodbye to them both.

Oliver winces a bit and asks after the wizard leaves, “Was that really necessary?”

Flint has to know that Oliver knows what he did here. Aside from just being rude, Oliver also can’t afford any negative word of mouth from a fan. That type of reputation could make it difficult for a team to renew your contract and he’s not achieved the type of fame that enable a few players to behave that way. Even if he did, he wouldn’t start carrying on that way.

Taking a seat across from Oliver, Flint deflects, “You realize he was angling to ask you out, right? I can go get him if that’s what you would like.”

Oliver can feel himself blush as Flint has to know Oliver wasn’t checking out the fan. However, he tries to shrug it off, “That’s not necessary. He just seemed like a fan.”

He’s saved from a response when the barmaid comes by their table and asks what Flint would like to drink. She had been polite to Oliver, but she must recognize him because she’s straight up sending Flint bedroom eyes and touches his shoulder before she leaves.

If Flint can tease him, Oliver doesn’t see why he can’t tease him back in return. He smiles now, “See? He hadn’t pawed at me like she did to you just now.”

“I didn’t come here for her.”

The heat from Flint’s gaze feels like it is going to give Oliver a sunburn, but it also warms him to the core. He hadn’t expected Flint to be so blunt, but had Oliver ever known him to be any different? He spent seven years of school with the other wizard, most of it revolving quidditch. Flint had always been blunt as hell when it came to quidditch, so it followed he was just as direct in other areas of life.

Oliver notices out of the corner of his eye another group of witches eyeing their table and he’d wager this year’s salary it’s because of Flint. He points with his chin to the other table. “Well that is reassuring, especially as you’ve been sighted.”

Laughing and shaking his head briefly, Flint doesn’t bother looking over and replies, “Don’t you know the first rule of being in public? Do not give them any indication you’ve seen them because that just encourages them to come up and chat. I’ll fend them off if they come over, but now you’re buying.” He sends Oliver a wink.

Oliver supposes Flint has more experience here as he’s on his fourth year as a starting player. He can’t understand why some fans are so emboldened to bother players, though he knows plenty of players who enjoy that kind of attention. He supposes he’ll find out which camp Flint is in.

“Fair enough.”

The barmaid comes around again with Flint’s drink and she’s put her hand on him again, her thumb rubbing small circles on his shoulder. Oliver is a little annoyed now and wonders if this is how Flint felt earlier, seeing someone else hit on his date. But Oliver is too nice to do anything quite like Flint did.

The barmaid asks, “Anything else I can get you two here?” She gives Oliver a cursory glance but keeps her gaze otherwise on Flint as she chews on her bottom lip. Oliver’s not the only one so affected by Flint it seems.

Oliver chimes in, “Just the tab” and passes more than enough to cover it.

Flint quirks an eyebrow at him while the barmaid just sighs, “You two can’t stay longer?” Again, she just keeps staring at Flint.

But to his relief, Flint goes along with it. “Tomorrow has early practice, right, Oliver?”

He sees the barmaid’s interest in him piqued now, too. Great. Guess he can’t come back here again. He slides the money closer to her, hoping she gets the hint.

“Yes, can’t stay out too late.”

She pouts while she picks up the money and says before leaving, “That’s too bad. Please come back anytime Thursday through Monday.”

“Everything all right?” After she leaves, Flint looks over perplexed and worried.

“Yes, please finish your drink so we can go somewhere else.”

He feels a bit bad rushing Marcus, but the scrutiny here is too much. His text messages with Flint were nice but Oliver doesn’t feel like the distractions are helping them. He hasn’t even had a chance to ask the other wizard anything.

Flint relaxes at that last part and smiles, “Sure thing.”

Oliver’s not seen anyone finish their beer so quickly since Gryffindor won the house cup. He smiles, “Ready?”

Of course when he’s finally getting Flint ready to go, one of the witches eyeing their table has come up to their table. He can see Flint is a little peeved as well before sending an apologetic look back over to him.

“Hi Marcus Flint, I’m such a big fan of yours.”

“Thank you, I wouldn’t be where I am without my fans,” Flint replies.

Oliver would guess Flint doesn’t enjoy this part of fame, his voice sounds mechanical and the message is canned.

The witch doesn’t notice and giggles before continuing, “So my friends want to say hello too, but I was the only one brave enough to come over here.” She bats her eyes, then looks back at her friends. The witches all titter when Marcus looks over and sends them a congenial wave.

“Look, any other night I’d love to meet your friends, they seem wonderful,” Marcus sends a charming smile at her, then another one to her friends again, before remarking, “But I need to get home as I have an early practice tomorrow. I’m not as young as I used to be and need my beauty rest for tomorrow’s game.”

Oliver wants to put his hands over his face at how ridiculous Flint sounds right now but can’t. Oliver gives him kudos for being extra patient with a persistent fan.

The witch doesn’t catch that he’s pulling one over her and says, “All right, but I’m not letting you leave without taking my number and signing my friend’s calendar.” She sticks out her tongue playfully before passing Flint a slip of paper. Then she pulls out a Witch Weekly calendar and Oliver almost snorts. Seriously?

Flint gamely picks up the paper and puts it in his shirt’s pocket before saying, “Thank you. Hope you and your friends have a good night.” Marcus flips through the calendar and opens it to July. The tips of his ears redden, but he signs it all the same and hands it back. Though Marcus hid most of the spread with his hand, Oliver saw enough of the photo and smiles. If he’s lucky, he might see more than that tonight.

The witch finally leaves and Oliver grins, “Shall we try this again?”

Marcus stands up and Oliver follows suit, together seizing their chance to leave before being wayside again.

After they exit, Flint retrieves the slip of paper and burns it. “Before you ask, yes, that was necessary.”

Oliver just laughs, he knows it is rude to laugh at the expense of someone else but that was one of his weirdest experiences in a pub. Oliver sees that when Flint is able to talk freely, he has some funny quips and is quickly reminded of the Flint he’s been messaging the last week.

“I’ll just say I commend you for your patience and leave it at that.” As much as Oliver would love to tease Flint about the calendar, he knows better than to bring it up.

Flint looks confused and asks with a thread of panic, “Oliver, didn’t you say—”

Oliver interjects, realizing how confusing his previous statement could be, “Sorry, I meant I just didn’t know you would be so popular at the pub. I should have better prepared for the stiff competition.” Oliver winks before finishing, “And yes, we can still continue hang out, that is if I don’t interfere with your beauty rest.”

His chest is warm and fuzzy now, it’s been so long since he last flirted with someone.

Flint’s heated gaze returns briefly, his eyes flick down to Oliver’s mouth, before quipping, “The second rule is go to a muggle pub.”

Oliver’s cheeks hurt from laughing again, but he is also exasperated and says as much, “Then Marcus why did you agree to meet up at this place? Honestly.” Oliver blushes as he realizes this is the first time he has said Marcus’s first name out loud this evening and he can’t recall the last time he did.

It’s still early and they could go find a pub that meets all of Marcus’s damned rules and he must sense Oliver’s thoughts, because he offers, “There is a nice muggle place nearby, just a short walk from here.”

Oliver nods and says, “Lead the way.”

For all that has happened so far, on any other date, Oliver would have called it a night and left at the earliest opportunity. He supposes that here Marcus recognizes what a train wreck some parts have been and it helps that he is willing to laugh about it too.

Marcus’s arm brushes against Oliver as they walk away from the pub and Oliver feels his own tingling from the brief touch.

“I never got the chance to ask, but how was your day, tonight otherwise?”

“My day was quite ordinary, got up early for my run then headed off to practice.” Oliver shrugs at Marcus. “Not to talk too much shop, but why is it that players seem so entrenched in their need to be right? Two of my teammates are just tearing down team morale with their constant fighting, often at the expense of the other.” Oliver is not expecting an answer, he knows his mild venting goes against any and all first date etiquette to put the best face forward. He circles back to ask Marcus, “What about you? How was your day, excepting the last half hour?”

“You’re expecting your same Gryffindor teammates from when you were captain.” Marcus smiles wryly before shrugging, “Look, it’s up to your captain to reign it in. I’ve dealt with my share of egos from Hogwarts to today, but if your captain hasn’t, then he may not know what to do. They could also be totally hot for each other and can’t admit it.”

The wink that Marcus sends him causes his heart to skip a beat. Oliver doesn’t want to think too much on how attractive Marcus looks right now because they may not make it to the next pub. But Oliver hadn’t thought about it that way, maybe his teammates parallel him and Marcus in that regard. It’s interesting to think how things could have played out if they had been in the same house and on the same team. But that just leads him to thinking about being in the same changing room as Marcus… He shouldn’t be daydreaming right now.

“Good point. And your day?” Oliver prods.

“My day was much like yours, practice and dealing with a couple troublemakers. But the last half hour has been great, the absolute highlight of my week.”

Oliver can’t help but smile in response to Marcus’s own smile at him.

Feeling the butterflies kick up again, Oliver takes the hook and asks, “All right, do tell me about this top notch experience, because I’d say mine was anything but.” He quirks an eyebrow in thought. “Was it fending off advances from multiple witches?”

“No it was seeing the honorable Oliver Wood glare bludgers at them.”

Marcus nudges his elbow playfully against Oliver’s own elbow and Oliver feels a bolt of electricity from the brief touch.

If Marcus is going to tease him, he can’t wait any longer so never mind on the other pub. They’re both almost the same height, but Marcus has an inch or two on him. He reaches out to Marcus’s hand and finally touches his skin, all the while feeling that spark again.

Oliver says, “Hey, come here.”

Marcus obliges and they stop. Oliver leans in and Marcus more than meets him, their lips crashing and Oliver latches on to Marcus’s waist with his other hand. He can’t remember another first kiss with someone feeling like this and opens his mouth in invitation. He quickly feels Marcus’s tongue slide into his own mouth, seeking out Oliver's tongue. They pause to breathe before kissing again, with Marcus’s hands moving quickly to his own waist. The soft circles he rubs with his thumbs is too much for Oliver’s brain and he moans in response.

Pulling away in a daze and completely flushed, Oliver doesn’t want to separate just yet but even two wizards can get heckled by muggles and he doesn’t want to deal with that. Most witches and wizards don’t care except the pureblood families who often push their children into loveless marriages for the sake of an heir. But he doesn’t know the area well enough to know if it’s mostly muggle or not.

“We can still go to that pub or we can…” Oliver tries to meet Marcus’s eyes, but he keeps looking down at his soft lips.

Even before Marcus can reply, Oliver knows they’re not going to that pub, at least not tonight. He manages to look up at Marcus’s eyes and see that he’s looking at Oliver’s mouth too.

Marcus just smiles and finishes for him, “Or we can go to my place or yours?”

Oliver nods and says breathlessly, “Yeah my place is okay.”

He knows they could go back to the pub they just left and use its apparition point but then they might run into more people interested in Marcus. And dammit, he doesn’t want to share right now.

Marcus laughs as he must sense Oliver’s thoughts and teases, “We could always go find a dark alley to apparate to your place.”

While that’s technically an option, they both know it’s only recommended as a last resort and generally discouraged because you never know when a muggle could show up. Oliver likes to think he can wait long enough to find another wizard friendly location but he’s happy to hear he’s not the only one eager here.

But maybe taking the same way here back to his place would be good or even a cab. Magic doesn’t always solve everything and he finds himself wanting to stretch this moment as long as possible. Though he’s not drank tonight, he doesn’t want to risk splinching them because Marcus has him wound up in so much anticipation.

“Let’s just take the tube. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Marcus quirks an eye brow in surprise but nods. Oliver surmises he mustn’t take it often, if at all.

They survive the commute and chat a bit, but Oliver finds it difficult to focus on any topic of substance. He notices the same with Marcus, too. Their hands keep bumping together. When they arrive at Oliver’s building, he leads the way up to the third floor on the stairs. He smirks because he’s wearing his fitted jeans tonight, so Marcus must be getting an eyeful right now.

The moment they’re inside Oliver’s flat, Marcus’s hands are on him again and Oliver feels the life being kissed out of him. As he navigates Marcus over to his couch, he takes off his coat before gently pushing Marcus down on his back. Okay they’re going to have to go to his bed because it’s almost comical how small the couch looks with Marcus on it.

All the same Marcus smiles up at him just before Oliver climbs into his lap, straddling his waist. Their mouths meet again, he moans when Marcus rubs one hand up and down his thigh while the other rests at his hip, rubbing slow circles in permission with his thumb.

He breaks for a moment to catch his breath, he moves to take off his jumper and Marcus follows suit by unbuttoning his own shirt. Oliver wishes he could lick that clavicle before Marcus hooks his hands around Oliver’s neck, bringing him down to kiss again. He settles for touching Marcus’s chest and grinding down on Marcus’s groin, who is just as hard as him. He hears the man below him call out, “Oliver..”

When Oliver stops rubbing down on Marcus, he feels Marcus trail one hand from his neck down to his chest, then down to his waist and along his belt. His hand doesn’t stop there, because one finger presses down along the seam of Oliver’s zipper. Oliver nearly shouts but manages to breathe out, “Please, Marcus.”

Marcus’s hands stop and Oliver thinks that is almost worse because he can’t think of anything else he wants more, than for Marcus to keep touching him.

Marcus says quietly, “Please, what? Tell me what you want, Oliver.” His hands are resting at the top of Oliver’s jeans.

Oliver sees as an earnestness in Marcus’s expression he wasn’t sure was possible. Marcus means the words, he really does want to know what Oliver wants and is not just trying to embarrass him.

Sitting in Marcus’s lap before kissing him again for what feels like the millionth time tonight, Oliver doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Marcus bucks up against him and Oliver can’t stop the moan from himself. He pulls away and looks at Marcus’s face again. He also sees pure want and desire mirrored, it turns him on even more that it’s just for Oliver.

He feels a flush spreading across his chest as he says, “I want you to top me.”

Marcus just smiles and says, “Happy to oblige.”

Oliver laughs as he stands up. “But not here, this couch isn’t big enough.”

He walks over to his bedroom, undoing his belt and doesn’t need to turn around to know that Marcus is following him. Once in his room he takes off the rest of his clothes. He opens the top drawer of his dresser for lube and feels one of Marcus’s hands on his hips.

Marcus’s other hand takes the lube and he hears Marcus sigh as he kneels behind Oliver. His hand briefly rubs up and down the outside of his thigh and Oliver’s heart races as he thinks about what Marcus is going to do. Sure enough he feels Marcus parting him down there but he’s surprised to feel Marcus’s tongue laving at his hole and he can’t help the string of curse words that come out of his mouth. He’s always been vulgar in bed.

His dresser hits the wall now from how his elbows are pressed against the top. His building is mostly muggle so the chances of his neighbors hearing them is high and finds himself wishing he had cast a silencing charm. Marcus’s tongue is now teasing his perineum before withdrawing. Then a cold finger slides into him and he can’t help but say, “Fuck! You could at least warn a guy..”

“Sorry.” Marcus doesn’t sound sorry at all, Oliver can practically hear the grin in his voice. But then he feels Marcus’s other hand resting on the back of his leg with his thumb rubbing circles on the soft skin of his inner thigh and it does feel like an apology of sorts.

Oliver’s body adjusts to the finger Marcus is lazily stroking in and out of him. It’s when a second finger is inside him that he feels Marcus’s other hand slowly strokes his erection. Oliver is doing his best to steady his breathing but he knows it’s coming out ragged. He unconsciously starts to rock his hips to get more of that friction and just as it feels like it’s enough, Marcus takes his hand off him. He wants to cry and just sighs as he rests his head on top of his forearms.

Marcus is now pushing his fingers in further, but always just out of reach of that spot. Marcus slows his finger’s pace when he adds a third finger and Oliver wants to ride those fingers dammit but this position puts him at Marcus’s mercy. He whines again and Marcus takes pity on him because his fingers slide further in this time. Oliver feels it and it is amazing. But he also doesn’t want to come yet and warns, “Marcus please, I—I need—”

He knows Marcus understands because he slows his fingers but keeps them in place, just out of reach from that delicious spot again. Oliver unconsciously rocks hips in an attempt to hit that spot once more before Marcus removes his fingers. Oliver groans at the loss and takes his hands off the dresser to turn around. Marcus is still kneeling and it’s a heady feeling that Oliver almost changes course, but maybe another time.

Marcus stands up and Oliver tries not to think about Marcus rimming him again because that was nice. Maybe he’d let Oliver sit on his face sometime. He walks over to the bed and pushes the bedding away before lying on his back. Marcus crawls into bed and kneels between Oliver’s legs. Oliver gives the other man another once over and feels his own face flush. He feels pleased knowing he’s the one that Marcus came out for tonight, that it is Marcus is in his bed right now.

Marcus smiles as he puts one of Oliver’s legs over his shoulder and angles their bodies together, pushing in slowly. Their bodies are flush and Marcus holds the position, looking at Oliver’s face for permission, who just nods and moans, “Yes, please…” Oliver feels like he’s been waiting all evening for this and if he’s being honest, waiting all week for their date for Marcus to pound him into his mattress. But all of Marcus’s teasing and heated looks earlier don’t compare to the real thing of being filled with Marcus.

He can’t focus on it for long as he feels Marcus slowly move and Oliver knows he should be patient, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself from yelling at Marcus to be quicker. His brain is able to take a moment to appreciate how beautiful Marcus looks right now, especially how the bed side table’s lamp is casting a warm glow on his flushed skin. His green eyes meet Oliver’s and he can’t look away, quickening his pace.

When Marcus finally palms one hand on Oliver’s erection, Oliver knows they’re both close. He puts his hands around Marcus’s neck and pulls him in for a quick messy kiss. Oliver comes first but feels Marcus’s hips stutter soon after and relax, before pulling out and unhooking Oliver’s leg.

Marcus is generous as he massages blood flow back to Oliver’s leg. Oliver smiles over to Marcus, “Thank you, I do need my leg from time to time.” He yawns now, he feels thoroughly debauched and judging from the state Marcus is in, he’s not alone. He wonders if Marcus will stay or if he needs to go. He sits up and pulls Marcus in for another kiss and says, “You can clean up first and you’re welcome to stay.” He feels his heart pounding in his chest, Oliver hopes Marcus can stay a bit longer. “There’s a new toothbrush under the sink too.”

“Thanks.”

Oliver’s heart is still racing as Marcus gets up and heads to the bathroom. He doesn’t have the full lights on but he thinks he sees some painful looking scars on Marcus’s shoulder blades. He isn’t sure how that kind of injury could occur from quidditch and doesn’t recall hearing in the news of Marcus being injured there. Marcus sustained injuries in the usual places like most quidditch players, those being the face, arm, or legs. He knows better than to ask right away, so he doesn’t comment on it.

He’s not left alone with his thoughts when Marcus comes out, so he gets up to wash up too. He realizes Marcus doesn’t have anything, so he rummages through the dresser for a clean set of pajamas and tosses them to Marcus. That way the man won’t have to sleep naked unless he chooses to do so, which also wouldn’t bother Oliver if he did. But it is cold tonight and though they feel warm right now, the clothes will be nice.

As he is brushing his teeth, he can’t help but think how weird this feels. Correction, how weirdly normal this feels with Marcus and this is only their first time together. Of course, he reminds himself this could just be a hookup. But it feels like a lot of work for that, if that’s what this is. Oliver doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole right now, so he spits and rinses his mouth. He just wants to go to sleep.

Oliver puts on the set of pajamas he grabbed for himself before heading back out. He’s happy to see Marcus still here. The man is already asleep and Oliver joins him, turning off the lamp near his side. He finds it doesn’t take him long to doze off too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written smut before. *hides*
> 
> But two chapters in one week? The sooner I finish this story, the sooner I may start my other stories in this setting/verse. <3


	7. Pep talk

Friday September 20th

Oliver’s never needed an alarm clock to wake up. This morning is no different as he looks at the clock on his bedside table, telling him it is 5:45. He realizes that Marcus Flint is spooning him, one hand on Oliver’s hip and their legs entangled.

He gets up to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth. He is able to clearly recall all of yesterday’s events. He flushes as he remembers Marcus on top of him and can’t find it in himself to regret any of it.

When he comes out, he sees that Marcus is awake too and has mostly dressed in his own clothes from last night. Oliver can’t help looking over Marcus’s bare torso and chest because it could be the last time he sees the wizard in this particular state of undress. He’d like to commit it to memory because there’s no way Marcus’s magazine photos do him justice.

“Good morning.”

Marcus looks up while he’s buttoning his wrinkled shirt and looks so smug, like he knows Oliver was checking him out. He returns the greeting, “Good morning, Oliver.”

“Would you like some breakfast? Coffee? Tea?”

He’s been putting off shopping for groceries so his fridge is pretty sparse right now. Oliver has no idea what he could feed Marcus and maybe his face gives him away because Marcus gently declines, “That’s very generous but I’ll be fine. Let me get out of your hair.”

Oliver is not sure if he’s allowed to kiss Marcus or not, things are a lot unclearer this morning than they were last night. He doesn’t have to puzzle on it long as Marcus leans into him for a quick chaste kiss on his cheek before saying goodbye and apparating away.

He raises a hand to his cheek and smiles, he can feel his cheek tingling in the spot Marcus kissed him.

* * *

Oliver’s finished practice, grocery shopping, and meal prepping when his mobile buzzes with a message from Marcus. He bites down on his bottom lip as he reads it. “Are you free again soon?”

He’s pleased last night isn’t a one time thing. Oliver texts back with, “Come over Monday.” His lip feels like it will break skin from how hard he’s biting down, because he’s not sure if Marcus is free then.

However Marcus quickly responds with, “Perfect, see you then.”

Oliver knows Marcus has a game this evening, so as much as he doesn’t want to distract him he can’t help himself from texting, “Good luck tonight!”

He’ll definitely be prepared to feed Marcus this time, should he decide to stay for breakfast this time. Oliver may not know how to cook many meals, but he can manage breakfast.

* * *

Marcus is out celebrating with his team, they won their game today. He feels happy for more than one reason, he wasn’t sure if Oliver would want to meetup again. But nothing ventured, nothing gained—that’s how the saying went, right? He certainly wishes they could have chatted more in the pub without all of those other distractions, but is grateful Oliver was a good sport about it. But he doesn’t regret how the night ended, so Monday can’t come soon enough.

He was honestly surprised at how well he slept at Oliver’s place last night. He normally doesn’t stay the night because of how poorly he sleeps away from his home. He’s always had this problem, even at school and oddly enough when he went home for the winter break or summer. New places bother him and he finds it difficult to stay asleep. It usually takes him a month to get used to a new place before it feels right. Then if he goes back to the previous place, it takes just as long to re-orient himself.

He feels his mobile buzz and sees a message from Oliver. He steps away from his team and reads the message. “Congrats on the win. Great post-match interview, too.” He sees a couple other messages from friends, but knows they don’t mind waiting for a response. If anything it would spark suspicion if he replied back too soon.

But Marcus feels happier than he has a right to feel. He feels something warm in his chest as he realizes that Oliver not only watched the game, but watched his television interview. He messages Oliver back, “Thanks. Glad my team pulled through. Can’t wait to see your match tomorrow against Wigtown.”

He is almost tempted to go watch the game in-person at Wigtown’s arena but knows that would alert his friends, especially Terence, to whatever this new thing is with Oliver. He’s optimistic it can turn into something more. So when he’s propositioned later by another patron, he gently declines the offer and heads home.

* * *

Saturday September 21st

Marcus sends Oliver a quick message before his match against Wigtown. “Good luck!”

He doesn’t expect a message back as the game is set to start in the next hour. He feels a bit foolish for texting so close to the game’s start. So when he sees a response, he’s quite happy.

“Thanks, but even though it’s against your favorite team?”

“I can root for more than one team. I’m guaranteed to be happy with either outcome when they play one another.”

Marcus hears some of his friends coming over and hides his mobile in his pocket. The tell tale buzz of a new message is killing him though. He sees all of his friends now, so if he looks at his mobile, they’ll know something is up. After all, who could he be messaging if they’re all here? Especially since he’s the one that uses his mobile the least out of the group.

His angst and excitement must show, since Terence smiles and leans in to ask, “Are you doing all right, Marcus?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, you’re absolutely glowing, Marcus.” Terence practically crows, “Did you meet someone online? Are you getting laid?” It was at times like this that Marcus regretted his past relationship with Terence because it meant Terence can read him better than the rest of his friends. Terence looks him over nonchalantly before arching an eyebrow.

The answer to both questions is yes but all the same Marcus retorts, “Sod off, Terry.” The nickname is a gentle reminder to knock it off.

“Leave him alone, babe.” Adrian rolls his eyes at his boyfriend before smiling over at Marcus in apology. “Marcus is allowed to have some things for himself without you snooping into it right away. I’m sure he’ll introduce us in due time.”

Marcus doesn’t say anything further because he sees the rest of their friends looking over curiously at their own conversation.

Graham joins in to say, “Not you too, Marcus! I thought we were in it together for enjoying our bachelorhood as long as possible.”

Cassius chimes in, “Graham your situation is totally different than Marcus’s—he chooses not to go out with someone again.”

“I told you that in confidence!”

He ignores the remarks, Graham’s on the team with him and even he gets a bit worn out from his antics. Said antics are only amplified when he’s with Cassius, of course. Marcus knows he can count on Adrian to have some kind of story to take the focus off him, so he asks, “Anything happen at work this week? Does Rhonda or what’s her name now believe you that you have a boyfriend?”

Without skipping a beat Adrian dives right into it and says,“Terence finally graced me with his presence for tea yesterday and met me at the office. She thought all of those photos of us together were magicked and that Terence was too handsome to be real. She called him a ‘McDreamy’ which I had to look up. How am I supposed to keep up with muggle references? Anyway she now owes me a week’s worth of lunches.”

“Glad our relationship means so much to you, Adrian.” Terence slides an arm around the wizard while the other starts on another tangent. Though he’s probably heard this story at least three times now, he’s focused on Adrian as though it is all new to him.

At times like this, Marcus is relieved it doesn’t take much to get Adrian to recant his whole week since you last met. He glances over at Terence who returns the look with a smirk because he knows that he’s caught on to Marcus’s inquiry to deflect attention.

He rolls his eyes in response to Terence’s smug look. He could tell Terence everything in private with a disclaimer to keep it between them and his friend would be over the moon about it, but he doesn’t want to spill the details just yet.

The evening is like any other, except he feels Terence’s studying gaze on him whenever Oliver appears on the screen. Marcus makes a pointed effort to not look over, trying his best to act as natural as possible.

The game wraps up and everyone is saying goodbye to one another. Terence and Adrian give each other that look that couples do when they’re speaking without words and it annoys the hell out of Marcus because he knows it’s about him. The rest of their friends all leave, so he knows Terence wants to talk. Marcus really wants to kick him out at this point but doesn’t say anything. He can’t reveal anything if he doesn’t speak, right?

He’s thinking about what he’d like to text Oliver when Terence finally breaks the silence. “Hey, sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it, Marcus. I’m not saying that because I’m going to get an earful from Adrian about it in ten minutes.”

Marcus snorts, if he knows Adrian he’ll do just that and more. “Thanks Terence.”

Terence isn’t looking at him, but inspecting his nails as he says, “You know you can tell me if you find someone on Wandr. Plenty of relationships start that way these days.”

He rolls his eyes. Terence always suddenly develops an interest in his perfectly groomed nails when he’s getting to what he actually wants to discuss. He rebuts, “Oh yeah? Tell me about three couples you know who met online then.” For someone who always likes to list stats on why Marcus shouldn’t do something that could impact him medically, he’d like to hear names.

Terence laughs and smiles a bit before conceding, “Okay fine, you got me there. But you have to admit, it’s somewhere people could find someone.”

Hmm, he’s holding his cards close tonight. Marcus isn’t going to suss out what Terence is getting after tonight. He huffs and rolls his eyes. “It’s so much work. Half the matches just ask if I’m _really_ Marcus Flint. The other half send nudes and want me to send nudes. Aren’t there enough photos of me out there for them?” It feels good to vent a bit.

“You think it’s any easier out here? You’ve tried it before.”

“Don’t remind me.” Marcus has tried many times to find someone but no one wants him for himself. It’s always comes down to how can they benefit from him and his fame. “You and Adrian though—”

“It wasn’t a walk in a park, but it’s been more than worth it.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to say it was.” Marcus can recall all of the times early on in their relationship where Terence would come over in a panic, worried he was messing things up after a fight or disagreement. He’s not sure why Terence ever asked him for dating advice when Marcus is the least qualified to offer any, but he can certainly listen. They’ve seemed to hit their stride though and he’s happy for them.

“Hey, it’s okay. But seriously, I’m always here if you need someone to listen.”

“Thanks.” He’s really tempted to say something right now and he does want to talk about it with someone. If he could talk about it in vague terms without Terence pushing for too many details might help. Terence knows his disastrous dating track record, he could give him some much needed tips. But maybe he should see how Monday goes with Oliver first.

“We’re good then?”

Terence’s phone buzzes and he glances down at it, a smile lighting up his face. It must be Adrian, they’ve barely been apart and he’s already messaging Terence. Marcus wants to tease him but doesn’t want to start up another thing.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Terence leaves and Marcus just wants to crawl into bed, but remembers he wants to text Oliver. Their team lost but not for any fault of Oliver’s because he played very well tonight. Wigtown’s seeker caught the snitch and they won by twenty points. Sometimes that’s just how the game goes.

He’s still sitting on his couch and pulls up his text messages with Oliver. He sees the message from Oliver before the game. “Thanks Marcus.”

He texts back, “Good game. You played very well tonight.”

He sees Oliver typing a message before it stops and starts up again. “Thanks, doesn’t always matter how well you play though.”

Marcus has had to give many pep talks over the years to players but he never imagined he would have to give one to Oliver Wood, even if it’s over text. His approach has certainly softened over the years because you don’t kick a dog when he’s down. Of course, there’s always a time to be firm as well—it’s a balancing act that’s for sure. Losing sucks and he knows this is Oliver’s second game in the season, so he may feel the scrutiny is high but things will be okay.

“What would you tell Potter? Your team’s seeker has to feel down about right now. It’s a team effort and everyone else could have stepped up more. It’s early enough in the season you all can still bounce back.”

He hopes he’s not out of line and waits a couple minutes for a response. He sighs as he doesn’t see one, so he gets up and walks upstairs to get ready for bed. He’s under the covers reading a book when he hears his phone buzz. It could be anyone messaging him at this point or it could be another Wandr notification. He hates that app and still hasn’t found a way to turn off his profile.

He doesn’t want to get out of bed because his phone is charging on a desk across the room. All the same he’s compelled to get out of bed and retrieve his phone. Marcus smiles as he sees Oliver has messaged him back. “Thanks for the perspective. Your team is lucky to have you as captain this year.” He’s even included a star emoji.

The compliment makes him smile. He certainly is having some growing pains this year, some of the older players on the team didn’t take to it kindly when they were passed over for the role. The last captain retired at the end of the season and took a junior coaching position for another team. Even though Graham can drive him nuts, he is glad to have him in his corner. But to hear from someone not part of the team, Oliver Wood no less, that he’s grown into deserving the role is the best compliment.

He texts back, “Anytime and thanks. Good night Oliver.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Marcus have been my favorite to write. :D


	8. All the carbs

Sunday September 22nd

Oliver still feels a bit down from losing yesterday’s game, but not as down as he felt initially. He chalks that up to Marcus’s texts last night which honestly surprised him. He sees now this isn’t the same Marcus he went to school with and wonders if Marcus sees a difference in him since Hogwarts. Oliver wants to know what the catalyst was for Marcus’s own change. He knows it was the war for himself.

But thinking about the war brings up so many feelings of guilt for surviving, for escaping physically unharmed. It’s still something that many of his friends don’t talk about. Some days it doesn’t feel like it happened because his life is still relatively the same when he knows that’s not the case for many people he knows. His family was okay, no one was harmed and no went to Azkaban. So it feels wrong to complain or even mention it when so many people he knows have been impacted for the worse.

Before getting too melancholy Oliver wants to enjoy his day off. Sundays are nice because it’s one of the few days he allows himself to sleep in if his body needs the rest. Of course his definition of sleeping in is another person’s waking up early. It’s 7:00 and he has plenty of time to burn before he’s supposed to meet Katie, George, and Angelina for brunch later this morning. Might as well go work up an appetite deserving of the occasion.

The fun way to burn calories involves another person but he brightens as he remembers that tomorrow he’ll see Marcus again. So he gets out of bed and puts on his cycling gear. He has an indoor bike and rowing machine in his living room he uses when the weather isn’t amenable for a jog outside. Just from looking out his window briefly, it doesn’t look great today.

He’s finished his workout and looks at his phone. He sees a message from Michael, that Wigtown player he met up with last week before he saw Marcus, messaging him at midnight. It’s been over four days since they saw each other and he only texts when his team beat Oliver’s? He rolls his eyes and deletes the message. But he scrolls down to his group text with his friends. No one has mentioned a time to meet, so Oliver texts, “Anyone up? What time works for brunch?”

It’s 8:30 and he knows his friends likely won’t wake up until at least 9:00 so he sets about making a cup of coffee.

He’s reading the paper on his phone when Katie messages their group text, “Merlin you get up early, Oliver.”

Angelina chimes in, “Let us sleep. Also don’t you have a boyfriend yet?” Followed by a sleeping emoji.

George goes along with his girlfriend and says, “^This.”

He texts back, “Well I now know you’re all up, so how does ten work?” He doesn’t bother waiting for a confirmation because he really should shower. He laughs because he knows they’ll grill him on his Wandr progress, that much is guaranteed. While he’s not ready yet to share any details about Marcus, he’ll have plenty of other stories to tell if that’s what they’re after from him today.

* * *

Monday September 23rd

Today’s practice is absolutely killer. Oliver’s captain really puts them through the paces today as a consequence for losing Saturday. Sam catches his eye and they spare each other a weary look before returning to the set of drills they have to finish. He looks over at their seeker Anna and she’s on the verge of tears. He manages to whisper some words of encouragement when their captain’s back is turned because he wants her to know he doesn’t blame her at all.

His captain can certainly be in a mood some days and Oliver tries not to take it personally. Many of his teammates speculate this is his last season, so he’s probably eager to end things on a high note.

Practice finally wraps up and Oliver is so tired when he apparates home. He’s grateful he has tomorrow off and he’s practically falling asleep on his couch when his phone chimes. He’s happy his phone is within reach, otherwise he would not reach for it just yet. He sees it’s a message from Marcus and smiles immediately.

“Hey, tonight still okay for you?”

“Yes, but bring food.” Oliver wants to laugh because he knows he’s being ridiculous. Marcus is not his boyfriend and under no obligation to feed him. He still has some of his basic meal prep dinners left that he can easily re-heat. He’s about to add a “Just kidding on food” when Marcus texts back.

“On it. What do you like?”

Well if Marcus is willing to get him food, then so be it. He types back, “Carbs, please. All the carbs.” Then he takes a note out of Marcus’s book and sends a bunch of food emojis. Any of those foods sound good right now.

Marcus sends him the crying while laughing emoji with the following message. “Be there in thirty minutes. Sounds like you need food stat.”

His stomach does a flip before growling. He thinks with a smile, how is it that Marcus can elicit so many reactions? Oliver gets off the couch because he should hurry and shower. While the thought of food energizes him so does seeing Marcus soon.

* * *

Maybe Marcus has lost his marbles, but he calls three different places for takeaway orders. He immediately offers to tip big if they can get his order ready in fifteen minutes or less. It makes him smile to think about how Oliver will react when he brings over half of the foods Oliver sent as emojis.

When he arrives at the first restaurant the hostess recognizes him immediately and offers to comp his meal. He declines and hurries on his way to the other two restaurants. He keeps his word and leaves a generous tip at each restaurant.

With three bags of food, Marcus feels a bit silly. It initially sounded fun and light-hearted in his head to do this but now that he has all of the food to apparate with him to Oliver’s apartment, he hesitates. Would Oliver just humor him but secretly be horrified? He steels himself and just goes with it. As tempted as he is to take a couple of the meals home to his fridge and just take a few to Oliver’s flat, Marcus doesn’t. He apparates to Oliver’s flat with all three bags of food.

He hadn’t noticed the first time around, but Oliver’s flat is very homey. He has photos all over the place of his friends, his past and present teammates, along with his family. He’d like to look around at the photos and know more about the story for each one but doesn’t want to intrude. He sets the food down on the table and sees that Oliver’s already placed settings out for them both.

However Marcus isn’t sure what to do. Should he announce himself, wait out here, or go find Oliver? Surely Oliver heard the crack of apparition when Marcus came over but maybe he should have arrived outside and knocked? While he’s worrying he’s already messed things up by being presumptuous, Oliver pops out of his bedroom and smiles at him. It puts Marcus immediately at ease to see that smile, just for him. Oliver’s hair looks damp and Marcus thinks he smells like cedar and ginger, with a base note of mint. It’s such an enticing smell that he’s not hungry right now, but it’s not about what he wants.

He rubs the back of his neck as he returns the smile to Oliver and says, “Hey, I didn’t know what to get from your list so I ordered a variety of things.”

Marcus knows he made the right call when Oliver’s eyes go wide as expected when he looks at the different bags of food but also as his face lights up with a smile and congenially laughs. “Marcus, this is too much! I know I said ‘All the carbs’ so I promise to be clearer next time. But it smells good, so thank you.”

He flushes not only at the words ‘next time’ but the way Oliver’s hand reaches for his own to give it a gentle squeeze. Marcus hasn’t really dated anyone but this sounds promising for sure and it gives him hope he’s doing something right.

He had expected Oliver to just choose one or two things, but when he takes a small serving from each entree it warms Marcus’s heart.

They briefly chat about their day and it becomes clear why Oliver was so hard on himself Saturday. Marcus does his best to tamper down his indignant feelings for how Oliver’s captain treated the team today. He doesn’t say anything and just listens.

They finish up and put away the leftovers in Oliver’s fridge. He remarks that he’ll have food for a couple days. Marcus leans into Oliver and briefly kisses him. Just like the first time, he feels that spark again. The only feeling he can compare this is when he first flew on a broom on his own, exhilarating but scary. He only hopes it doesn’t end in a similar way, with him crashing and breaking his arm or in this case his heart.

It doesn’t take long for things to get heated because Oliver kisses him again and pins him against the kitchen counter. Oliver holds onto his shoulder as he grinds his groin against Marcus. He breaks for air and looks at Oliver, whose cheeks are already flushed. Marcus knows he must be tired and wants to say they can do this another time but then Oliver kisses him again.

He feels Oliver’s hands move to his chest before moving to unbutton his shirt. Marcus wants to wear a button up shirt every time now if it means he gets to hear a huff of exasperation from Oliver. One of his hands move to Oliver’s waist and the other rests on Oliver’s round arse. He’d enjoyed briefly rimming Oliver last time and wouldn’t mind doing so again tonight.

Oliver’s mouth moves to his neck and Marcus can’t believe it. He is not able to recall the last time a lover gave him a hickey but he’d proudly sport one from Oliver Wood. He can’t find it in him to be bothered by the beard burn Oliver’s 5 o’clock shadow is giving him either, though he knows it will be there tomorrow.

Oliver’s finished unbuttoning his shirt, so he removes it and Marcus doesn’t miss the way that Oliver looks him over. While Oliver is quite toned, it’s a sharp contrast to his own muscled and broad chest. He pushes himself hard for his build and it’s certainly helped him in career but this has always been a side benefit.

While he is dressed much the same as their first date, Oliver is even more casual in his joggers and sweatshirt. Not that he minds because Marcus finds himself wondering how intentional that choice is—if Oliver styled himself for Marcus’s ease of access. He smiles at the thought and moves his hand from Oliver’s waist to palm Oliver’s erection through the soft cotton material.

The way Oliver’s eyelashes flutter as he moans does things to Marcus’s stomach. He keeps stroking Oliver with one hand while the other slides up Oliver’s sweatshirt to rub circles on his waist. He knows his hands tend to be cool, so it’s little surprise that Oliver shivers at the initial contact.

“Marcus, please…”

He eases up and slows his movements before stopping altogether, but not without feeling Oliver buck up into his hand that’s resting there.

They move to Oliver’s room and both finish undressing. He’s not surprised Oliver didn’t wear underwear.

“Bed. On your back, please.”

He complies with the instruction, finding it nice that Oliver is clear in what he wants from him. Marcus has never bottomed before, but if that’s what Oliver wants from him tonight, he’s more than willing to try it. Oliver opens that top drawer in his dresser again, finding the lube.

“Here.” Oliver tosses him the lube and continues while blushing, “I’d like to ride you.”

Oliver straddles him, facing away. He does as Oliver asks and while he is a bit relieved, he’s also disappointed he’s not able to see Oliver’s face. Maybe he should work on prepping himself if in the future Oliver wants to top him. The thought excites him but reminds himself to focus on the task at hand. He works his fingers into Oliver, going slow and working him gently. He could easily rim him but doesn’t. He adds another finger and that’s when he feels Oliver’s mouth on his erection.

Marcus lets out a moan and his hand stops as Oliver’s tongue teases him. His other hand that’s on Oliver’s hip involuntarily tightens and he relaxes his hold so he doesn’t bruise Oliver. He resumes his movements and adds a third finger. Oliver moans and rocks his hips back onto his fingers. He moves his fingers further in to that spot and Oliver stops teasing him, letting out a soft sob. He really wishes Oliver would move around so he could see him. He can imagine the way Oliver’s brow is knitted, his lips covered in his spit and Marcus’s pre-come, but also how flushed his face must look too.

Oliver’s hand moves to his hand on Oliver’s hip, gently squeezing it. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his fingers from Oliver and takes his other hand from his hip. Oliver moves down and uses one hand to guide himself onto his erection, while steadying his other hand on Marcus’s thigh. Okay, this view isn’t without its merits—Oliver’s back looks fantastic.

He had been surprised that Oliver had a couple tattoos on his back and he can see them clearly now. Though he’s not surprised they’re all quidditch related. Marcus doesn’t have one, anything that could be likened to a dark mark isn’t his cup of tea. He doesn’t want anyone to think he had any sympathy or voluntary involvement for that dark spot of history. But he does like Oliver’s tattoos, they suit him.

Oliver’s seated himself on Marcus and he can’t help the moan that comes out because it feels wonderful to be in Oliver again. Before he knows it, his hands are on Oliver’s hips again and rubbing small circles. Oliver’s breath hitches at the movement before he starts to move up and down. It’s not fast at all and he wonders if Oliver is doing this to torture him then remembers the day Oliver’s had.

He wants to be patient but he’s not above begging and pants, “Oliver, please…”

Oliver laughs and quickens his pace. Marcus moves a hand to Oliver’s erection and strokes him in tandem to Oliver’s movements. He knows his breathing is ragged at this point and hears Oliver moan at his ministrations.

He knows he is close and moves his hand faster on Oliver, the man soon coming on his fingers. Oliver keeps moving and it’s not long before Marcus comes too.

Oliver levitates a cloth over and uses it to clean himself and Marcus. They’re both panting from the exertion and effort.

Call him an optimist but he brought an overnight bag with him. He’d shrunk it to fit in his pants pocket. Unless Oliver says otherwise, he’s assuming he’s okay to stay over again. He hasn’t slept as well as he did on Thursday since he was here. So he’s also looking forward to sleeping too, if he’s being honest.

Oliver is laying next to him, catching his breath. He looks over at Marcus with a crooked smile and just says, “Your toothbrush is still there.”

That settles it and Marcus gets up. “Thanks.” He smiles over at Oliver before grabbing his miniature bag from his pants and heads into the bathroom.

When he gets out of the bathroom Oliver looks a bit surprised to see him in his own pajamas as he had been waiting beside the bathroom with an extra pair. But Oliver’s surprise quickly settles back into a smile when Marcus says, “It’s all yours now.”

He gets into Oliver’s bed again and sighs as sleep claims him but not without first thinking how nice today felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I need to change my description to Marcus-centric because he's now my favorite. <3
> 
> This will be the last chapter for awhile...I have a couple things to revise but this will be finished, I promise.


End file.
